Kidnapped
by Je Love You
Summary: That night at 8PM, the news anchor's expression was grim; his eyes were dark. The lines in his face were even more pronounced. "Good evening. My name is Elliot Hirsch. Today commenced the second day of investigation into the kidnapping of ACN's Will McAvoy and MacKenzie McHale. For those of you just joining us on the story, here is a rundown of the events thus far..."
1. Meet-Cute

Kidnapped

**A/N**: Hey guys, I know this section has died down a bit but I really had the urge to write for the Newsroom! If the fic isn't received well, I'll take it down. But if you're reading, please drop off a review and let me know what you think! Knowing people are reading will really keep me going.

After their engagement, things go awry due to News Night's recent unpopularity. There will be drama, some angst, but also flash backs to keep the story from being too dark. You won't figure out why or how they were kidnapped just yet, but you will later on in the story! This chapter starts off a bit dark but it gets lighter from there.

I hope you enjoy!

**Summary: **That night at 8PM, the news anchor's expression was grim; his eyes were dark. The lines in his face were even more pronounced. "Good evening. My name is Elliot Hirsch. Today commenced the second day of investigation into the kidnapping of ACN's Will McAvoy and MacKenzie McHale. For those of you just joining us on the story, here is a rundown of the events thus far..."

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, just the fic!**

* * *

Chapter 1 – Meet-Cute

_January 2013_

Will McAvoy wanted to know what the hell he had done wrong.

His hand shook as he took a long drag from his cigarette and exhaled, trying to find some sort of habitual peace in the act. He couldn't help but wonder what he had done to deserve everything that had happened to him in the recent months.

Forty-six different emotions were flooding through him at that moment, and he felt as though he was just on the brink of losing his sanity. If he worried any longer about MacKenzie; if he kept thinking about the worst-case scenario, he would truly go mad.

So he focused on the selfish thoughts instead, such as: why the _fuck _couldn't his happiness ever last? It was so much easier to be selfish. He had grown up with an abusive father. He had protected his mothers and his siblings without regret. He fought to keep the voter fairly informed in the hopes it would eventually lead to a better America. He may be an idiot sometimes, and everyone knew he could be a jerk, but wasn't he still overall a decent human being? In his lifetime, aside from the three or four years of being an asshole to his staff due to tragic heartbreak, hadn't he been a _good guy_? Did he really deserve all this shit?

He had been good to MacKenzie at first, and that resulted in his heart being torn into a million microscopic pieces. When she had come back into his life, sure, he had been terrible to her, but he had also realized how daft he was being and worked to make amends. (Okay, he didn't really make amends; he'd _proposed _to her, but she'd said yes, hadn't she?) They had just started to get their relationship – their _life_ – back on track.

Now it might be too late.

His lips quivered as the the events from earlier that night came flooding back to him. He could hear her scream in his ear. He could hear the van door slam shut before it drove away, taking his fiancée with it.

It was all his fault.

He couldn't save her. Tears rushed up and threatened to fall, and he brushed them away with the back of his hand.

_No! Will! _He could hear MacKenzie shouting at him, over and over.

_Will! _His name, screeched in desperation, torturing him as he played it over and over again in his mind. Her beautiful, round eyes widened in utter terror as she reached out to him, only he couldn't reach back.

The sound of the precinct door opening whirled him out of his self-deprecating spiral. He tried to snap out of it, hastily straightening his appearance as the footsteps tread closer and closer upon the snow.

"Will?" His name, spoken much gentler this time, echoed through the alley. Sloan's usually indifferent voice sounded kind and concerned. He immediately turned his back to her, still trying to brush his tears away.

"Right here."

"You shouldn't stay too far from us now."

"I told Lonny where I was. I just needed a minute." Or twenty. Will couldn't look at Sloan, for fear his eyes were still bloodshot and his face stained with tears. But that woman was nothing if not adamant, so she walked in front of him, forcing him to face her.

"It's not your fault," she said, and he exploded.

"Like_ hell _it's not!" It was not a yell – he had _screamed _at her, and he could hear his voice echo back at him more than once, the bitterness hitting him tenfold. He knew Sloan was trying to be nice; she was trying to comfort him, but those words sparked a fire inside of him. They sparked a deep hatred for himself that had been growing ever since he let MacKenzie go all those years ago.

"I was _right there. _She yelled for me, she _called _for me, and I- I couldn't save her. The death threats were directed towards me but they figured it out. The best way to hurt me _wasn't _through me, it was through-" He choked on his own words and those hot tears started flowing very much involuntarily down his cheeks.

"MacKenzie would never want to put your life in danger over hers," Sloan said quietly. "She was just scared. She didn't-"

"Not now," he said, and his voice fell eerily quiet. "Please, Sloan. Not now. I know you mean the best, but please." He held up a hand to force her distance, as though his five gloved fingers would make her go away. But as stated before, the woman was adamant. Sloan interlocked her fingers with his, making him look up with surprise. But then she pulled him towards her and wrapped her arms tightly around his broad shoulders. He could see now, in the light of the street lamp, that she was crying too.

And it broke him.

Will bowed his head into Sloan's shoulder and let out a devastated sob, his arms wrapping around her as well. She joined him in his cry, the both of them shedding tears for the woman who meant so much to them.

* * *

_November 2012_

MacKenzie had meant to open the door. She had meant to hold it open for her _fiancé. _Instead, the very buzzed News Night EP ended up putting all her weight on the door and slamming it open against the wall. She erupted into sheepish giggles.

"Oops. Sorry."

"It was only a two thousand dollar door, don't worry about it," Will replied casually and sarcastically, shrugging off his coat. Feeling pleasantly warm in his apartment compared to outside, MacKenzie removed her coat as well, her heartbeat fluttering when she turned around and he was standing so close.

"You paid two thousand dollars for a _door?_" she teased, giving him a little shove.

"It's a beautiful and secure door," he defended. The slight redness to his cheeks signaled that he was as drunk as she was, and she couldn't help but smile as he leaned in for another kiss. The alcohol and the fact that she had been surrounded by colleagues was probably the only thing that had kept her from really analyzing the situation. But as she stood there in Will McAvoy's apartment, snogging him senseless, the weight of everything finally began to hit her.

"What the _fuck_ have we done?" she whispered, laughing. "Oh my God, Will, what have we _done_?" He observed her carefully, as he always did. Then, he laughed. As the events of that night finally registered, they laughed together and Will brought MacKenzie's left hand to his lips, kissing her ring. She had gone from ex-girlfriend to fiancée in less than twenty-four hours!

"I mean, we were yelling at each other one moment, and now…" MacKenzie was shaking her head, still in disbelief.

"Well, we fight like a married couple in the newsroom anyway," Will said, shrugging. "It was about time we shut up and made it official." She just scoffed.

"_No,_ Will, we fight like a bitter couple that has been in a relationship for a very long time, live together but aren't married, with growing resentment who read on the weekend!"

"We _do_ read on the weekend," Will defended, taking her hands and placing them on his chest. He resumed their kisses, but when she started blabbering again, he redirected his lips down her neck. She had to give him props for his dedication.

"I can't believe this is really happening," she whispered.

"I know, it feels like a dream," he whispered back, and she felt his hand gently cradle the back of her head.

"Say it again," she whispered, and he pulled back to look at her.

"I love you."

"No," she said, noting the slight irritation that graced his expression. "The other thing."

"That usually is the other thing," he insisted, but she just smiled. He seemed to catch on to what she wanted him to repeat, and he shook his head.

"Oh, come on…"

"Please?"

"Can't I just kiss you?"

"Please?" She looked up at him with those eyes of hers, and he almost fell for it.

"Hey – I already said it once tonight. It's your turn, if anything. Heck, I proposed! You need to say something now."

"I _did _– I said yes." She smiled and she knew she had him. He rolled his eyes and sighed, and MacKenzie could tell this argument was pushing away his buzz. She knew his pride didn't want to give into her, but he could either continue arguing or continue kissing.

She was thrilled when he chose the latter and repeated himself, word for word.

"I am going to be in love with you for the rest of my life," he said quietly, pressing his forehead against hers as he brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "There's no way out of that. It's just a physical law of the Universe. _You own me_." His gaze flickered to her smile.

"I'm yours, MacKenzie McHale, for all intents and purposes."

She reveled in those words. Everything he had thrown at her these past three years was suddenly worth it. Her slender arms wrapped around his neck as she pressed her lips against his ear and whispered.

"I'm yours, too."

Hearing her say it must have lit a fire in him, because suddenly she was being pressed roughly against the wall. His lips crushed hers and she found herself returning the kiss with just as much fire. Damn, he had always been a fantastic kisser. His hand never let go of her left, his thumb brushing against the ring, as though reassuring himself that it was all real.

"I can't believe meeting you on set all those years ago led us to here," MacKenzie whispered as they broke apart for air, and Will smiled at her. His blue eyes were filled with love.

"I can."

"Really?" It was genuine surprise. She had still been with Brian when they met; it wasn't until after they had broken up that Will had expressed any real interest in her. But... that made sense. Will would never approach any woman if she were already attached. She looked up at him, grateful that she could finally read his expression again. Until tonight, he had always tried so hard to hide his emotions from her.

"MacKenzie McHale, you may not have known it, but you've owned me since the day we met."

* * *

_February 2005_

"Three minutes to air."

Will McAvoy nodded at the camera as one of the many voices of the control room filled his right ear. He was accustomed to the multitude of voices by now, and he even knew whom all of the voices belonged to: Bill, Jake, Greg, Amy, John… That voice from a moment ago belonged to John, he was sure. 80% sure, anyway. Will tidied up his pages, picturing the control room's usual buzz before show time as he stacked the notes into a neat little pile.

"One hundred and twenty seconds, McAvoy. Are you ready?"

The sudden accent caught him off guard. He couldn't recall meeting anyone on his team with that particular voice, and he was a tad afraid that his memory was failing him. The woman he had just heard sounded kind and a little playful – but what he noticed the most was how she sounded _confident_. No, he decided. With a voice like that, he would have remembered her.

"Who is this?" he asked, hiding his intrigue as he glanced at the camera. He could practically hear the smirk in her next words:

"I'm MacKenzie McHale, and I'm your new EP."

He said nothing, trying to remind his logical self that a person couldn't _hear _a smirk. He busied himself with his papers although he had no need to review them again. Will's last EP had been swept away by ABC, and he knew Charlie had been scrambling around to find a replacement. It had been a few weeks now of senior producers and EPs from other timeslots subbing in, but he had almost completely forgotten that MacKenzie McHale was supposed to start tonight. He had even signed off on her paperwork two weeks ago.

"Hey," MacKenzie said, interrupting his thoughts through his earpiece. "You didn't answer my question."

"Your question?" he repeated. There was a pause, and he heard her laugh. It was quiet; lilting.

"I asked: _are you ready?_"

Will paused again, toying with the idea of being serious or completely messing with her. After a moment, he finally gave a safe answer, as he always did: "That depends on what you have in store for me, Ms. McHale."

"Buck up, McAvoy," she said, and again he could hear the grin (_You can't hear expressions, Will, _he reminded himself sternly) in her words. She said, so simply, "You and I are going to do the news."

He couldn't stop his own smirk from lifting the corner of his lips.

"Then I'm ready."

At the start of their first commercial break, MacKenzie McHale made her way to the set, standing beside the camera until they had transitioned to commercials. As soon as she was given the okay, she walked right up to Will with those long legs of hers and stuck out her hand. One look told Will that not only did her face match her voice, but she was probably the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. His handshake was firm.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Will McAvoy," she said, "I've seen your work, you know. You're quite good." She crossed her arms and looked up at him with playful interest. The woman was tall, but he was taller.

"Yes," he said easily, "because when a news anchor is fighting to secure his place near the top, he really hopes that the overall impression he gives is_ quite _good. Doesn't that expression mean 'mediocre' in the UK?" He was teasing her, just as she was him, and MacKenzie laughed. She didn't seem fazed by the comment.

"I believe people are calling you 'affable,' actually," she said, "and with my help you could become _quite _affable." She grinned at him and he couldn't help himself. With those doe eyes and that teasing smile, he wanted to get to know her better. But right now there was a time limit on their conversation.

"Look, it's Valentine's Day and I know it's a little silly, but the staff and I are having a party after the broadcast. You should stick around – get to know everyone."

"Oh, Will, I'd love to, but I actually have plans tonight," she said, and he nodded, swallowing the very slight twinge of disappointment. His new EP suddenly tapped her earpiece and said, "Ninety seconds. I'll leave you be. Say goodnight before your big party, yeah? The show is _quite _good tonight."

"Don't think I don't notice that you're calling our show _mediocre _in British English!" he called after her as she walked away.

"I'm American!" she replied proudly over her shoulder. MacKenzie and those long legs of hers disappeared behind the glass door with remarkable speed. Will cleared his throat and returned to his desk, scratching his brow to hide his minor embarrassment. Of course the intelligent EP with long legs had a date on Valentine's day – look at her!

"You ready?" came that teasing voice in his ear again. He quirked an eyebrow at the camera.

"Are you going to ask that before every broadcast?" he countered.

And even in the silence, he knew she was smiling.

* * *

**A/N: **Always open to constructive criticism, so let me know what you think. :) R&R for the next chapter!


	2. Should, Should, Should

Kidnapped

**A/N**: Wow! Thank you for all the great support! Let me just say I'm so glad the flashback was well received, as you can expect many more! As per your reviews, I will try my best to achieve a good balance. :) Just remember that this is a story about kidnapping, so it will have its dark moments, but it will also have its romantic moments. I hope you enjoy the ride!

As promised, here is the 2nd chapter! Just as before, drop me a line to let me know what you think. I'd love to know who's reading.

**Summary: **That night at 8PM, the news anchor's expression was grim; his eyes were dark. The lines in his face were even more pronounced. "Good evening. My name is Elliot Hirsch. Today commenced the second day of investigation into the kidnapping of ACN's Will McAvoy and MacKenzie McHale. For those of you just joining us on the story, here is a rundown of the events thus far..."

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

* * *

Chapter 2 – Should, Should, Should

_January 2013 _

If all the world was a stage, it was time once again to play his part.

Will sat at the ACN News Desk, reading off the prompts as though nothing was wrong. Charlie was trying to give him his space, but Will knew he was being watched constantly, the old man ready to jump in at any time if he needed him.

The only reason he was able to continue working was because he knew MacKenzie would have beat him senseless if he didn't. Their show had a purpose, and that didn't stop when one of them was… _missing_. Will tried to brush the negativity of that word away, focusing on the little red light that constantly reminded him he was on the air. Charlie's attempts to give him just a few days off had been firmly rejected by Will. It was healthy to take his mind off of the investigation for a while, as he was probably thinking about it for the other 23 hours of the day. For the most part, he left the block planning to the team and joined them in the final rundown so he had some sort of idea what he was going to be reporting that night. The rest of his time was spent checking every single method of contact he had to see if there was any hint of a word from MacKenzie.

"The US Interior Secretary Ken Salazar has announced that he is to leave the office in March…"

Reporting was second nature to Will now. He could get it done no matter what. Bim, bam, boom.

Unfortunately, the only booming he felt right now was in his temples - a rhythmic, tympanic beat. The room was hot given the negative January temperatures outside. The spotlights were aggravating his headache and making him sweat. Once the commercial break had started, he greedily took Advil and drank from a hidden water bottle, silently willing the painkiller to work its magic fast. Bringing a fevered hand to his forehead, he noticed with slight alarm that it was still trembling. He wondered what people thought of him – he wondered what those in the control room were whispering about, with him shaking like this. Did they even notice? _Please_, he prayed, holding his fingers tight, steadying them. _Just let her be okay. _Will wasn't a man who usually prayed, but he found himself doing so almost every night now.

Thinking back to how he had woken up at the hospital with MacKenzie at his side did him no favours. She had saved _him. _She had found _him_ when he had vomited blood from his stomach and passed out on the bathroom floor_. _Why hadn't he been able to do something in return? If he could have saved her – if he could have helped her, he would have. He was scared out of his mind for that woman, and he had no way to get to her. There were men who were threatening him – _using _her – and he had no real idea why. He scoffed as he remembered the conversation he'd had that night at the precinct.

"_No idea?" the officer asked. "They didn't tell you why they took her?"_

"_No," Will answered blandly. "They said they would tell me. Later."_

"_How?"_

"_I don't know."_

"_You didn't press them for questions?" the officer asked, and Will had to take several seconds to recompose himself. Yelling at an officer would not make this process go any faster._

"_No. One guy was holding a gun to her head and another guy had a knife at my throat. It wasn't the time for questions."_

They were going to contact him. They were going to tell Will what it took to get MacKenzie back, safe and sound, though perhaps Will would recommend Dr. Habib to her for a swift recovery. He tried to think ahead. He tried to think of anything _but _what fear and peril she might be facing at this very moment.

He loathed himself for failing her.

"_Fuck_- Will, can you hear me?"

He heard Don's voice now in his ear, urging him, and Will looked up into the camera. The red light was on… Well, shit. He was on the air. They were replaying the prompt for him.

"Three car bombs exploded near military checkpoints and government buildings in Idlib Governorate, Syria, leaving 24 people dead. Two other bombs were defused by government forces…"

He wasn't sure how long he had been out of it, but he recovered as best he could. When News Night ended, he got up from his desk without a word and walked to his office. Loosening his tie, he poured himself a glass of bourbon, downing it in less than five seconds. His hands still shook. His office was sweltering and yet his sweat and his skin were cool to the touch. He felt the symptoms of a panic attack getting closer and closer, but he pushed them away. He had to be strong. For her, he had to be. He could push through this.

Any positive mental progress he had made in the past few seconds diminished when he once again remembered that it wasn't supposed to be this way. It was his fault. For the thousandth time, he told himself should have done something.

"If it had gone any other way that night, one of you might have died." Will jumped, not realizing anyone had entered the room. His boss was leaning against the door to his office now, watching him closely; he had probably witnessed Will's erratic behaviour from the control room and ran over the second the segment ended. He frowned as he watched Will, broken Will, down another shot of bourbon.

"She still might die," he reminded Charlie bitterly.

Charlie shut the door now, walking up to Will and putting his hands on his shoulders. He held him at arm's length, giving the broad man a shake. This was the first time Charlie had brought up the incident since the night at the precinct.

"Kiddo, if you keep killing yourself like this, you're going to have another episode with your ulcer and nothing's going to get done. It's not your fault. It never will be your fault, and MacKenzie getting kidnapped is not going to change no matter how hard you wish it. It's time to act, Will. It's been an entire week. They'll contact you soon, and you need to be ready when they do."

Will swallowed hard when Charlie reminded him of how long it had been. The week had felt more like a year.

"It'll be all right," Charlie said, determined. "We're not going to lose her. We'll get through this just like we've gotten through all the other bullshit that's come our way."

Will nodded, mostly to show him that he was listening. He knew Charlie was right, that he had to get himself together, but he couldn't just lift his chin up and be in good spirits. He would try, though. Noticing Will's tortured expression, Charlie added, more gently, "You kids make a good team."

There was a pause as Will soaked in the words. Then, Will smiled. He nodded, looked up to Charlie, and smiled. However small it was, however sad it looked, it wasn't forced. It was real.

"Yeah. Yeah, we do."

* * *

_October 2005_

"So I heard you and Mac were talking about a new show."

"A little."

"Well, shouldn't I be hearing about it?"

Will McAvoy glanced at Charlie Skinner, unable to help but give Charlie's suit a once-over. Something looked familiar about it. That night, the man had opted out of his usual bow tie and was wearing a wide-necked blue tie.

"It's just in the planning stages, Charlie. Once we have something to tell you, we'll tell you."

"I'm your boss. Shouldn't you fill me in sooner rather than later?"

Will was too distracted trying to figure out why Charlie's suit seemed so goddamn familiar. Finally, it hit him, and he completely changed the subject.

"What the hell are you wearing, Charlie?"

"My Halloween costume," Charlie answered, his eyebrows raised. "This is a Halloween party, after all." Will waved an arm irritably at the older man.

"Seriously? _I'm _your Halloween costume? I'm not sure if I should be flattered or heinously insulted." Will took a step back, and though he would never admit it, Charlie had the suit down to a 'T'.

"You told me you didn't like dressing up on Halloween," the older man protested, his bushy eyebrows shooting up towards his greying hairline. "So I decided to have a little fun. Show you what you're missing out on."

"Jesus, Charlie…"

Standing next to each other in identical suits, the pair of them looked comical at that Halloween party. The way Charlie's hair was brushed back even matched the way Will styled his hair before each broadcast, with copious amounts of gel. Charlie stood up straight and matched Will's "news anchor" expression, pretending to look into a camera.

"Good evening, I'm Will McAvoy. Top story tonight: I am a non-committal jackass who refuses to share my opinion on anything even though I am a registered Republican!" The people around them chuckled, and Will shook his head. He hadn't shared that particular political tidbit of information with the staff, and he didn't exactly want it leaked out to the other networks. His popularity was only growing because people had no idea what side he leaned towards. As far as the viewers were concerned, he was completely unbiased.

To Charlie, however…

"Why does it matter that I am a Republican but don't share my opinion?" he asked, tilting his head to the side as he feigned interest.

"Because Republicans are opinionated, Will!" Charlie exclaimed. Will scoffed, but he couldn't fully hide his amusement. A few years ago, when Will had been a legal correspondent on the show, they'd barely spoken. Now Charlie was one of his closest colleagues.

"I'm going to get you back for this," he promised, and Charlie laughed, raising his glass to Will in challenge.

"Looking forward to it! Make sure you discuss the fact that you should be allowed to have an opinion on this new show. None of this being dubbed the "Jay Leno of news anchors" crap. I don't want that shit catching on."

As Will took another sip of his drink, his eyes fell upon MacKenzie. She had just plopped herself down on the office couch, wearing a black dress with cat accessories, even going so far as to draw a black nose and whiskers on her face. He reserved a moment to take in the way the black dress tapered in at her slender waist, then flared out to accent her toned hips and show off her really, _really _long legs. Sometimes that woman was so beautiful it hurt to look at her. Will would have smiled in greeting, but she didn't even notice him. She was too preoccupied scrolling through her phone, and not in the way that she did when she was checking for news alerts or e-mails.

She looked sad.

Will drew in a breath and walked up to her, patting Charlie on the shoulder in farewell. He sat down on the couch beside MacKenzie, and without giving her time to greet him, he asked,

"What's wrong?"

MacKenzie sat up straighter and looked at him.

"Nothing's wr-"

"What's wrong?" he repeated, looking at her now. "You can't lie to me, Mac. We've been working together for eight months now. I think we make a pretty good team, but that only stands if you don't lie to me."

MacKenzie's expression faltered, and she looked back down to her phone. She scrolled, eyes directed at the screen but unseeing, and finally, she sighed. Her usually squared shoulders deflated, and he resisted the overwhelming urge to wrap an arm around her for comfort.

"Brian," she said, and he nodded. He'd figured as much.

"Ah. What was it this time? Did he come home late again?"

"We broke up. He was supposed to come to the party tonight, but when he came over to pick me up, he broke up with me instead."

Will hesitated, reminding himself to keep calm. MacKenzie was in a vulnerable state right now. He had heard her rant and rant about how Brian infuriated her one moment, and how she absolutely adored him the next. When he brought up her almost bipolar reactions towards her (now ex) significant other, MacKenzie simply waved her hand dismissively and told Will that this was how all relationships worked. He didn't think so, but he was in no place to actively try and disrupt MacKenzie's personal life, no matter how attractive Will found her. She deserved to be happy, so seeing her upset made him want to punch Brian in the face.

"I'm sor-"

"I swear to God, if you finish that sentence, I will hit you," MacKenzie said, shooting him a quick sideways glance. "I don't need you feeling sorry for me, Will. Comforting words, sure. A friendly pat on the back, fine. But I don't need or want your pity. He broke up with me. It's not the first time I've gone through a break up and it won't be the la-"

"Do you want to get out of here?" He interrupted, and she sent him that doe-eyed look that she always did when she was surprised. He'd caught her off guard, and it was infuriatingly adorable.

"What?"

"You're upset. There's a bar across the street. You can vent about how Brian's a jerk – which I've been telling you incessantly, by the way – I can listen, and then at the end of the night we can go our separate ways without the whole office knowing what happened. Plus, I can get away from Charlie dressing as me for Halloween."

"Why would you do all this for- wait, Charlie dressed as you for Halloween?" MacKenzie immediately turned her head in search of their boss, but Will reached a hand out, using his thumb and his forefinger to gently redirect her chin so she was facing him again.

"I said earlier we make a good team," Will repeated quietly. "As your partner, I'm going to be there for you when you need me." He stood up from the couch, sliding his hands into his pockets as he walked towards the door.

"You coming?"

MacKenzie had just been staring after him, unmoving. He had felt self-conscious for a moment, but then he saw her snap out of her reverie and collect her belongings off the couch.

"…Yeah," she said, hurrying to catch up with him. As he held open the door for her, he felt a strange, warm and very satisfying sensation rush through him. He watched as MacKenzie turned off her cellphone and ran towards him instead.

No more Brian.

"So, are you sure you want to do this?" MacKenzie asked as she caught up with him, following him towards the crosswalk. "I don't want to spoil your Halloween by wallowing in self-pity."

"Well, it can't be worse than having to stand next to Charlie all night mocking me," he offered, hoping some humour would distract her for just a moment. He saw her resulting laugh reach her eyes, brightening them, and once again he had to remind himself not to pounce. He would crack terrible jokes _every day _if she would just smile, really smile, like that for him. But Brian had _just_ broken up with her, and now he had to take his time. Will had waited a few months for MacKenzie. He could wait a little longer.

When they reached the bar, he made sure they received their drinks right away. He had never seen his EP drink excessively at any of their work events, so his eyebrows rose a little when she downed her cocktail in almost one gulp.

"So I'm guessing you didn't see this coming, huh?" he asked carefully, and MacKenzie sighed, pushing away the empty glass and gesturing to the bartender for a refill.

"Actually, I did see it coming, but I tried to deny it. I thought if I could just keep working at it, then he would too."

"Well, what did he say? Did he give the "it's not you, it's me" speech, or something along those lines?" Will took a much more modest sip of his scotch, welcoming the smooth burn that spread through him.

"No," MacKenzie said, placing her chin in her palm as she glanced at him. "It's me. He just… doesn't love me anymore."

As the bartender passed MacKenzie another drink, Will furrowed his eyebrows and leaned closer to her.

"Then he's an idiot." He didn't feel the need to back up his statement, but she just shrugged and took another long sip from her new drink. "Did he say anything else?"

"He said we were getting too serious for his liking and he still needed to take the time to explore before he settled down."

"Douchebag," Will muttered, and MacKenzie laughed.

"Yes! Yes, exactly. Brian is a giant, idiotic douchebag."

"Careful, Mac, you're dressed like a cute little cat so I doubt many people are expecting you to use words like _douchebag_."

"I can say whatever the hell I want tonight. I got dumped."

Silence settled over the two of them as they waited for their next order of drinks. Will glanced at her again.

"I really am sorry. I hate to see you upset, especially over a giant, idiotic douchebag."

MacKenzie smiled sadly, placing a hand on his shoulder and leaning over. He felt her soft, pink lips brush against his jaw, and his eyes closed for just a moment.

"I know, Billy. Thank you."

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**A/N: **Are you guys still with me? Next chapter, if everything remains on schedule, you should be finding out a little bit more about the kidnapping. Please R&R for the next chapter!


	3. The Phone Call

Kidnapped

**A/N**: I am so glad you guys are enjoying the story. Things are going to pick up after this chapter... please continue to R&R!

**Summary: **That night at 8PM, the news anchor's expression was grim; his eyes were dark. The lines in his face were even more pronounced. "Good evening. My name is Elliot Hirsch. Today commenced the second day of investigation into the kidnapping of ACN's Will McAvoy and MacKenzie McHale. For those of you just joining us on the story, here is a rundown of the events thus far..."

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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Chapter 3 - The Phone Call

_November 2005_

MacKenzie lifted her head up from the article she was reading when a catalogue envelope was slid onto her desk. Will sat across from her, looking at her with a smile that told her he knew something she didn't.

"Something to slide into the A block?" she asked, and he shrugged casually.

"If you want. I'm sure I could fit it in."

Intrigued, MacKenzie stuck her fingertip under the envelope's flap and carefully ripped it open. Most people would comment on how she needed a letter opener, or laugh when they saw how particular she was. She simply saw it as taking her time, and Will didn't once rush her. When she finally got her hands on the pages inside, she lowered them and sent her anchorman a look.

"Seriously?"

"Just humour me," he said, leaning back in his seat and making himself comfortable. MacKenzie rolled her eyes, gently using her thumb and forefinger to rub at the dark circles beneath as she began to read. She hadn't gone to work this tired in… well, she wasn't so sure she'd ever gone to work this tired. Brian had been on her mind a lot lately, but it was beginning to fade. It was hard for her – she had grown used to his texts and his calls, but he hadn't slipped up after the break up to contact her once. She supposed this was karma; she had ended all of her previous relationships without a care, so maybe it was time for her to feel what it was like on the other side.

It was a bitch.

"Will, what is this for?" He sat up a bit straighter in his chair, waving a hand as he usually did when explaining something.

"You didn't seem to be listening to anything I said two weeks ago," he offered, vaguely. She blinked.

"Two weeks ago? At the Halloween party, you mean?"

"That's the one."

"Okay... So, I don't understand how our conversation at the bar led to you giving me a handwriting analysis report from an actual lab – kudos on the source, by the way – of my notes from the September 11th anniversary." MacKenzie interlaced her fingers together over her desk, cocking her head to one side as she watched Will.

"Look, I know you don't want to talk about it, and I haven't brought anything up since Halloween, but let me just get this out: the reason that Brian broke up with you isn't because you're neurotic, or needy, or nagging, because you're not. It's because he's a complete tool that doesn't realize that spending his life with you would have made him the happiest guy on the planet. It's because he would rather spend his time schmoozing with women at his work events without being tied down. Do you hear what I'm saying?"

"Not really, no," MacKenzie said, shaking her head. "I don't get what any of this has to do with having my handwriting analyzed. You know that handwriting analyses are usually complete and utter bollocks, right?" She smirked as he opened his mouth, then shut it, recomposing himself before he spoke again.

"Of course I'm aware of that but I'm trying to do a nice thing here. Will you just keep reading? Please?"

MacKenzie sighed and read aloud – to humour him, as he put it.

"McHale's straight, unslanted writing expresses strong logic and practicality. The size suggests that she adapts to difficult situations well. She is skeptical and-"

"Yeah, yeah, skip down to paragraph 12," Will interjected, and she raised her eyebrows.

"You _memorized _my handwriting anal-"

"Just – please?" he said again, and MacKenzie smiled. He seemed to really want to express his point, and he looked a little irritated, so she decided to be more serious about the situation. Putting more effort into reading this time, she skipped down to paragraph 12.

"McHale is ambitious and optimistic. She is very determined and enthusiastic when presenting an idea. Light pressure from the pen suggests that the subject is sensitive, kind, and very emphatic towards people. The consistency of her loops indicates that she is confident in who she is."

It had started off as a complete farce, but MacKenzie had quieted down as she read, touched when she realized why Will had done this. The report said pleasant things about her, and it was nice to hear something that wasn't negative after the two weeks she'd spent moping over Brian. It was like a big slap in the face to be reminded that before two weeks ago, she had been a confident woman. Before Brian broke her heart, she had direction. It was then that Will finally spoke up. His tone took on meaning, and he never broke eye contact.

"You were saying all of these things about you that simply weren't true," he said quietly. "You wouldn't listen to me, so I decided to get a detailed analysis _proving _that you are a good person, because God knows and I know that you would believe a written report before you believed the good things I say about you. Brian doesn't deserve you. This analysis is filled with accurate, wonderful things about you. You shouldn't be putting yourself down because of him – you're an amazing person. This report shows that. It is _evidence _– and not just testimony from myself – that you are loving, and practical, and not once does it say needy or neurotic-"

"However," MacKenzie continued reading, interrupting him, "McHale also exhibits a tendency to be stubborn and most likely has a hard time letting things go." She sent him a cheeky smile when he looked up at her, frustrated that she hadn't let him finish all of the good things. Sometimes she enjoyed pushing his buttons, but it was mostly because she knew he _loved _pushing hers.

"Yes, well. Those things too," he muttered quietly. "It's probably a good thing that these handwriting analyses are complete and utter bollocks, right?"

MacKenzie laughed, and she saw him shift uncomfortably in his seat before he spoke again.

"See, I saw this going so much better in my head. It was supposed to be like a movie: one of those inspirational pep talks that suddenly changed your perspective on life. Complete with cheesy music and piccolos, not mockery and British swear words. I know you're American, but I don't think I've ever said 'bollocks' before until you came around."

MacKenzie stood up from her desk with a smile. Will stood immediately, and when she reached him, she wrapped her arms around his neck, closing her eyes as she felt him return the embrace.

"Thank you, Billy. This was a nice thing for you to do. Strange, but nice." When they pulled apart, she nodded towards the door.

"D'you want to grab a coffee with me? It's still a while before the broadcast and I could really use some." She looked up at him as she asked, trying to brush off the slightly nervous feeling that overcame her. It was just coffee, why did she have to feel weird about asking if he wanted to go with her? They'd gotten coffee together a hundred times before.

"Sure," he replied easily, showing no indication that he had been going through the same sort of personal struggle. They walked down to the lobby of their building together, and she couldn't help but smile as he held the door open for her for the umpteenth time. His chivalry drove her crazy sometimes, but it was still a flattering quality of his.

As she approached him, his strong frame was cloaked in sunlight. The stiff November wind barely affected him; his gaze was on her and her only. As she walked by, murmuring a quiet 'thanks', MacKenzie noticed a hint of something else: the way he was looking at her was different from before. He was more open with her these past few weeks than he ever had been. As they walked towards the café, his hand gently found its way to the small of her back, directing her through the crowded New York streets.

She looked up at him and saw that smile – that rare, genuine, Will McAvoy smile that reached his bright blue eyes and wasn't just for the viewers. Then she realized something: he wasn't just a friend or a colleague. This was a man who listened to her sob over another guy. This was a man who did his very best to make her feel comfortable at any given time. This was a man who challenged her then held open the door for her, told her how great she was, and took the time to back up his compliments with proof.

Maybe she needed a man like Will.

Maybe it was time that she started seeing him in an entirely different light.

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_January 2013_

"_You've reached MacKenzie McHale, Executive Producer of ACN's News Night. I'm unable to answer my phone right now, so please leave a message and I'll get back to you."_

_Beep._

Will hung up and sighed. There were never any rings – it always went straight to her voicemail. He must have listened to the message twenty times in the weeks she had been gone. Of course they couldn't get a reading when trying to trace its GPS location; the kidnapper wouldn't be so careless.

He hit the green button on his BlackBerry for the fifth time that night.

"_You've reached MacKenzie McHale, Executive Producer of ACN's News Night. I'm unable to answer my phone right now, so please leave a message and I'll get back to you."_

_Beep._

Silence followed, and he wasn't sure whether or not he should hang up. He was just about to disconnect the call when he glanced at the wallpaper of his BlackBerry – _really _glanced at it. Not long after their engagement, he'd made his wallpaper a photo of her, headset equipped with a fire in her eyes. It was sappy, but he figured that the wallpaper was covered with enough Blackberry icons that no one would notice. He loved MacKenzie's determination – her confidence, her beauty, inside and out…

He returned the phone to his ear.

"Mac," he said quietly. "I don't know where you are, and we don't exactly have the greatest history with voicemail messages… but I wanted – _needed – _to say that I miss you. I really hope you're safe. We're doing everything we can to find you. Don't lose hope. I failed once. I won't again."

He hung up, rubbing his eyelids to try and massage some life back into them. He looked and felt terrible, but Charlie was right. He couldn't keep killing himself. He needed to rest, and he felt like he had been awake long enough to actually fall asleep for a couple of hours. No matter how much he thought about it, he couldn't change what happened. He laid down on his leather couch, lacking the energy and willpower to move to his very big and very empty bed. He closed his eyes, promising himself that he would get back to work as soon as he got some rest.

But then his phone rang.

His heart suddenly jolted, and his energy received a jumpstart. He shot up from his couch and glanced, wide-eyed, at his phone. His call display simply listed the number as "Unknown," and he didn't hesitate to answer.

"Mac?!" Will's heart was pounding as he stood, unmoving, in his living room. It was silent for far too long, and his eager hope dwindled back down to nothing. He already knew it wasn't MacKenzie on the other line.

"If it's money you want, just name the price."

There was another bout of silence before he got a reply.

"…There are mobs demanding your resignation." The irritated voice that replied was altered; it was deeper than what was considered normal, and sounded slightly grainy. "There are petitions with almost fifty thousand signatures collectively demanding you be fired. You called the Tea Party the 'American Taliban.' You publicly stated that America is not the greatest country in the world. You accused our government of using sarin gas on innocent civilians. Do you really think it's your money we're after?"

"Please," he said. "Just tell me she's all right."

"Would you believe me if I told you that?"

Will faltered. _Would _he believe him? Damnit – he was surrounded by people almost every hour of every day, and now of all times he was alone?! He wished he had someone there with him. In the movies, wasn't this where the cops were inexplicably in his home at the right time? Wasn't this where the cops would find a way to trace the call? He debated running outside of his apartment for help; after all, two cops were assigned to watch him from a ghost car outside of his apartment. Lonny was on speed dial and always nearby. But Will knew the concrete walls of his building would cause his reception would disconnect before he hit the lobby, regardless of whether he took the stairs or the elevator. He couldn't risk that chance.

"What do you guys want?" he asked, running a hand over his face. He could hear a slow, steady exhale on the other end. Was the man smoking?

"I only called to tell you to keep your eyes open at work. Await instructions tomorrow."

"Wait- I want to talk to Mac-"

_Beep._

Will closed his eyes when the man hung up, and the devastation hit him all over again. He hadn't even gotten any sort of proof that MacKenzie was safe. He hadn't heard her voice. The kidnapper didn't even confirm that she was all right.

Again, he'd done nothing.

"FUCK!"

Swearing loudly, he threw his BlackBerry so hard into the floor that the battery plate was thrown off and his screen shattered. A harsh, black dent appeared in his hardwood floor from the impact, and he paced his living room, running his hand over his face.

What the hell did he do now? Walking to his window, he shakily lit a cigarette, waiting for the adrenaline in his veins to settle down. So much for sleep. He picked up his landline since his cellphone was shattered to all hell, and he hastily dialed Charlie's number. Will took a long, haggard drag from his cigarette.

"Will?" Charlie didn't even sound groggy despite the fact that it was 1 in the morning.

"They called."

"Shit. What happened?"

"They're going to contact me tomorrow. I want to catch these guys. I want these guys to think that they have the ball in their court and we'll take them by surprise. I'm calling the cops. I'm calling Lonny. This is my shot to do something."

Will was annoyed when he was met with silence. Didn't Charlie understand the gravity of the situation? Didn't he understand what was happening here?!

"Charlie?"

"Are you sure alerting everyone is the right thing to do?" Charlie asked, and Will could tell that he was being careful with his questions. "Aren't most kidnappers – oh, I don't know – _opposed_ to cops?"

Well... yes, of course they were. But the man he'd spoken to hadn't said 'no cops' or anything of the sort. Was it implied? Will couldn't think straight.

"I don't care, Charlie. He took my fiancée. He took the woman I'm supposed to marry. He took the woman that I've been in love with for almost a decade. If I don't do something, I'm going to go nuts!"

"I get that you want to do something, Will, but perhaps you need to take a moment to remember the fact that MacKenzie's life is in their hands, and we _don't want to piss them off_."

Now it was Will's turn to be silent. In an emotional frenzy, he had almost alerted practically all of New York City that MacKenzie's kidnappers we're going to contact him tomorrow. The kidnappers could find out and cut off all contact with him, and he might never see MacKenzie again. He had no idea why they took her, or what they wanted out of him. Charlie was right – he couldn't be so rash when they knew so little.

"Will?" Charlie pressed, and Will _almost_ slammed his phone back onto its base, but he reeled in his self-control. Charlie was right, and he hated it. He was seething.

"_Fuck _me_!_" he yelled.

"Maybe some other time," Charlie replied, levity and all. Will roared into the receiver.

"Does it seem like this is the time to joke right now?!"

"No. Look," Charlie said calmly, "no cops until we figure out what they want. We need to keep this low key until we know more. We can keep the cops in the loop for their investigation once we've determined it's safe enough for MacKenzie to do so. Agreed?"

Will ran a hand through his hair, stressed beyond belief that he once again had to do sit back and do nothing. Tapping his cigarette against the ash tray by his couch, he nodded reluctantly even though Charlie couldn't see him. Will took several seconds to recompose himself, his heavy breathing slowly subsiding back to normal. Charlie waited patiently on the other line.

"Okay," Will said, when he was ready. "Agreed."

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**A/N: **Finally, we're making some progress! Please leave a review for the next chapter!


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